


What If

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drama, First Time, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Series, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-06-12
Updated: 2003-06-12
Packaged: 2018-11-11 05:25:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11141871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: What if Ray V came in from the cold before COTW?





	What If

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

  
What If

## What If

by shedoc

Disclaimer: I don't own them (but I'd sure like to - hint hint)

Author's Notes: This was kinda bugging me. It's not all that AU - I just got to wondering what would happen if Ray V came home and Muldoon never showed up.(I've got WAY too much time on my hands)

Story Notes: Instead of COTW - but Muldoon never shows up.oh, just read the story! <g>

* * *

Fraser looked up as the knock resounded through the Consulate. Having finally got rid of the painters, their radios, drop cloths, foul language and incessant noise - not to mention the unfortunate Canadian and Mountie jokes - Fraser had finally hoped to spend Sunday evening in peace before spending Monday liasing with Ray at the 2-7. He had not seen his partner all weekend - though Ray had offered to paint the Consulate with Fraser after the Mountie had expressed some concern over letting the painters in. He had been unsure of the quality of their work - Inspector Thatcher had high standards and so did Fraser. 

"We can get the public areas done this weekend and the rest of the place next weekend," Ray had grinned over the table at Fraser, his spikes sticking every which way in reaction to the chase and arrest they'd successfully completed only an hour ago. Ray had insisted on taking his partner for a celebration meal and Dief had weighed in with his unsolicited vote as well. 

Fraser had declined the offer though, certain that Thatcher would be even less impressed with Ray's involvement in the maintenance. She didn't like the brash American - who had made it more than clear that the feeling was mutual. Ray had offered to come over and `help supervise' as well, but Fraser had convinced him that the less people there the better. 

The knocking sounded again as Fraser reached the door and he opened it quickly. 

"Leftenant Welsh!" he exclaimed, a feeling of dread coming over him at the grim face of Ray's boss. Welsh didn't make social calls to the Consulate, though Fraser knew he'd been to Ray's once or twice after work for a beer. The two men had a very unlikely friendship, based on solid mutual respect. 

"What is it? Is it Ray?" Fraser knew he was babbling, and Dief whined in a very distracting manner. He shushed the wolf absently, his eyes fixed on Welsh's face. 

"Ray is fine, Fraser, but I do have some news for you. May I come in? This couldn't wait until tomorrow." 

Fraser stood back automatically and let the other man in before leading the way to the Consulate kitchen. Welsh sat opposite him at the table and folded his arms, thinking for a moment. 

"I...look, this isn't going to be easy to say," Welsh sighed, "I've got good news and bad news. Bad news is that Kowalski has been reassigned to an urgent undercover op at his old commanders request at the 1-8. He's back in Vice for the moment and he sent you a letter by me in order to explain." 

"Not again," Fraser was unaware he'd spoken out loud until Welsh nodded, his own face unhappy. Too many people had just up and left Fraser with no farewell or chance of reuniting. It was an old pattern in his life and one that he hated with a vengeance. 

"Good news is that the reason this happened is because Vecchio is back at the 2-7. He's finished with the mob thing and came back this weekend. The cover is over," Welsh didn't look any happier about that news and Fraser shook his head, unsure what he was feeling. He was relieved that the lie was no longer necessary and that his friend was safely home...but Ray was gone. 

"I'm not happy about Ray going under again so soon, but I was overridden by the Commissioner on this. The only consolation I can give you is that Detective Kowalski will be transferring to the 2-7 when the Vice thing is over. I want him free and clear of undercover for a while, give him a chance to get his head back together." 

"That's good news," Fraser finally managed to reply to the sudden, unwelcome flood of information. Welsh nodded and fished an envelope out of his pocket, sliding it across the table to Fraser. In Ray's familiar, half illegible scrawl, Fraser's name was sprawled over the front. With fingers that trembled despite his best effort to control them, Fraser slit the envelope open carefully and pulled out the single sheet of lined yellow paper inside. For a moment the print swum in front of his eyes, then he took a deep breath and it all steadied into focus. 

`Benton Buddy. 

I know, I know, this isn't buddies, but I got no choice here partner. Mathers is pretty insistent that I get to work on this new case right now, and I gotta agree it's pretty urgent out there. 

I never wanted to do it this way - we both knew that the real Vecchio would be coming home one day, and after I saw your face when you came back from that vacation to me and not him...I promised myself that I wouldn't do that to you. Ya know, disappear on ya without a word or warning. 

Looks like I broke that promise. I suck, I know. 

I'll come see ya at the Consulate when it's all done if that's ok - you can pop me one if ya like. I probably deserve it. 

It was an honour and a privilege to work with ya partner. You might be a freak, but you're a good man and a damn good cop - don't ever forget that Ben Buddy. 

I hope the painting went ok. 

Don't forget me. 

Ray.' 

Fraser sat silent and stunned for a moment before leaning forward, his hands pressed to his chest to relieve the pain there. The letter crumpled and creased against his Henley and Dief whined in concern, also pressing close. Tears stung Fraser's eyes, but he held them back. 

"He left me..." 

The dry whisper had Welsh wincing and getting up, moving around the table to put his hand on Fraser's shoulder. They stayed like that for a long time. 

"He'll be back," Welsh said after a while, "And if he makes us wait too long, then we'll bring him back...and we'll both kick him in the head." 

* * *

Monday morning. Fraser got up and went through the usual morning routine, stopping long enough to put the note and envelope into one of the evidence bags he carried and tuck it with his money into his hatband. He walked to the 2-7, arriving at eight and nodded to the desk sergeant as always. 

The bullpen was its usual bustling self, Dewey and Huey bickering over their desks, Frannie at her desk, scowling at the computer and ignoring the ringing phone, a couple of uniformed officers talking to a suspect, one typing as the brightly dressed man spoke in a nasal, whining tone. 

Ray Vecchio sat in his usual suit and shirt at his desk. He was going through the drawers and scowling. Evidently the state of the desk was not satisfactory. The familiar scowl was oddly welcoming, though, and a sign that Vecchio was back. 

"Good morning Ray," Fraser said in a level tone, as Dief leapt up on the arm of Ray's chair and fussed over his newly returned friend, "I trust you had a good weekend?" 

"The best ever," Ray's eyes shone, his whole body screaming `good to be back'. He fended Dief off with his usual loud protests and complaints as Fraser sat in `his' chair - the one that had appeared one day, situated directly opposite from Ray Vecchio. 

"How about you, Benny?" Vecchio continued and Fraser smiled. It was indeed good to have his friend back safely. They worked well together and the Italian had been a comforting point of reference in a very confusing world when Fraser was struggling to acclimate to Chicago. 

"The painters completed their work at the Consulate without damage," Fraser told him, "Inspector Thatcher will undoubtedly find fault with the work and request I redo at least part of it." 

Vecchio stared at him in shock - was Fraser criticising his superior officer? Mr `Duty first, stiff upper lip, carry on' was complaining about the Inspector's behaviour? For his part, Fraser realised that it had been Ray Kowalski that had encouraged Fraser's less than perfect attitude to Thatcher's foibles. Ray was always telling him that he was a human being and entitled to feel dissatisfied with petty behaviour from his superiors. Fraser had been learning to express that dissatisfaction - though he only did it rarely. He hated whining. 

"Uh, yeah, well," Vecchio stumbled over the moment, and then changed the subject. Dief whined at Fraser, who shook his head in warning. It didn't do to compare the two men. 

"I thought we could go over the caseload today, get all caught up on where we were," Vecchio regained his usual smooth confidence, "But first, Benny, I gotta know - what the hell is this stuff?" 

The `stuff' consisted of a large bag of M&M's and a yoyo, a comic book and a biography of Martin Luther King. There was also a tube of hair gel and a comb that Fraser remembered purchasing for his friend over the Internet. It was made by an Inuit tribe back in Canada who had set up a marketing site on the web...The Mountie dragged his thoughts back to the present and his waiting partner, who was moving to throw the objects in the trash. 

"Those are mine," Fraser said immediately and collected them into the crown of his Stetson, cradling the hat close lest his partner took the items back, "Sorry, Ray." 

Vecchio gave him another funny look and then nodded. Frannie wandered over, grinned at Fraser and held out a shoebox that she'd scrounged from somewhere. Evidently she'd been watching the exchange from her desk and surmised what they were saying. 

"Here, Frase. I'll hold them for you until you need them again." 

There was a note of sadness in her voice and a wistful edge to the smile. It seemed that she too missed Ray Kowalski. Fraser put the objects inside carefully. The unspoken thought that their true owner would one day claim the items in question was floating unspoken in the air. Until then, Fraser knew that anything belonging to `his' Ray would come to him. 

"Thank you kindly, Francesca," he smiled a little and she nodded to him and her brother before heading back to her desk. Vecchio sat back and nodded before opening the top file in his in basket. Thanks to the paperwork blitz that Ray Kowalski had held on Friday afternoon, most of the reports and files were up to date. Frannie even had a bunch on her desk, ready for final processing before they went down to Records. 

Fraser shook off his thoughts about his absent friend and paid attention to the files and man in front of him. The night had not allowed him to resolve his turmoil over Ray's departure/return. Only time would do that. 

* * *

The next two weeks passed uneasily. Though the names in the bullpen had not changed, the people had. Ignoring the dramatic change between Ray's, Fraser found that he himself had also changed. 

After the events on the Henry Allen, the partnership between himself and Ray Kowalski had changed. It had gone from a truce between two strangers, to a tentative friendship between two people who were working together for the sake of an absent third party. The Henry Allen had been the end of the tentative friendship. They had both learned from the events and moved onto a friendship and partnership that was all their own. 

Though Ray was continuing to protect Vecchio, Fraser felt that he had become firm friends with Kowalski. The uneasy compromise between past and present vanished as both men threw themselves into getting acquainted and comfortable. Dief was happy with his new pack mate - Ray never protested half as much about his clothes, car and furniture containing wolf hair as Vecchio had. Fraser had never been accepted for who he was so wholeheartedly. 

If Kowalski called him a freak now and then it was with a real undertone of genuine affection and even respect. Fraser felt he could be himself - be human - with his friend and Kowalski encouraged that wholeheartedly. The perfect front that Fraser had displayed to the world when he knew Vecchio had become an unnecessary burden that he could put aside on occasion with Ray. Fraser had learned that it was safe to let himself be seen by another person. 

Vecchio startled a little each time Fraser let himself go in his presence. It was a tiring and uncomfortable reminder of the differences between the two men and Fraser found himself slowly reverting to the faade that he presented to the world upon his arrival in Chicago all those years ago. 

Huey, Dewey and Francesca complicated this - though they never intended to cause discomfort. However, they had got used to the `looser' Fraser, and continued to treat him as they had when Ray Kowalski was at his side. The nickname `Big Red' was bantered about once or twice until Vecchio told them to knock it off - thinking that Fraser's discomfort came from a dislike of the name, instead of melancholy over the origin. The bullpen had become a little strained after that. 

Vecchio found it hard to regain his place in the bullpen. Kowalski was an excellent detective and well liked by the squad. He had made his own place, and Vecchio couldn't help resenting that. He sometimes felt as if everyone - Fraser included - was measuring him against the `fake Vecchio' and he was coming up short. 

Even his sisters and mother spoke highly of Kowalski. Frannie thought the Polish man was a `pain in the back' - Vecchio thought she meant neck - but he had looked out for his `sister' while protecting Vecchio. Ma loved the challenge of feeding the thin and fussy young man, sending enough leftovers to feed the squad for a week home with Kowalski when he appeared once a month for the family Sunday dinner. Kowalski had also made it a habit of calling once a week to check on the vibrant Italian matriarch. He'd run errands for her and ensured that her house and garden was well maintained. When the arsonist had partially burnt the house, Ray had been in there every evening, inspecting the builder's work and ensuring that Ma was safe. 

Vecchio felt some gratitude to his `replacement' for that. Ma Vecchio was the heart of the family and her son was very protective of her - the fact that Kowalski had assumed that mantle of protection on his behalf had been reassuring. Ma had sung Kowalski's praises and made noises about continuing to invite him to the family dinner. Vecchio wasn't sure how he felt about that. 

Vecchio also found the changes in Fraser confusing. He was the friend and man that Ray remembered, but at the same time there were mannerisms that the detective hadn't seen before. And the man actually ate pizza! With pineapple on it no less! Vecchio had never thought he'd see the day when Benton Fraser ate junk food. 

Stella Kowalski also felt the changes in the squad, though she felt they were for the better. The real Ray Vecchio was a much easier man to deal with than her ex-husband. There was no past to battle with Vecchio, and the man was fairly reasonable in an excitable Italian way. 

Just as the end of the second week came, one of the cases that Fraser and Kowalski had been working hard on went belly up. The leads dried up, and out on the street, people seemed to know even less than usual. Then one of the key informants was arrested on a possession charge, and wanted to barter his information for a reduction in sentence. 

Unfortunately, he only wanted to speak to the Vecchio he knew - and that Vecchio was Ray Kowalski. Welsh went to Mathers with Stella as back up and Mathers agreed - under duress - to pull Kowalski out of the operation for a day. Kowalski was duly arrested and dragged off to the 1-8, then smuggled to the 2-7. 

Fraser felt as nervous as he had the day of his graduation from training. He was going to see his friend once more. 

* * *

Kowalski was due to arrive at 2pm, so Vecchio took Fraser out to lunch, to the diner that let Dief in as long as he sat under the table. Fraser was quiet during the meal, planning his own reaction to Kowalski's return. He decided it all came down to one thing. Would he allow the old fears of abandonment and loss to interfere and rule his life, or would he reach out to the friend that he had come to treasure as more than a substitute, more than family. 

Ray Kowalski had hugged a total stranger, based on the look on the mans face. Ray had later that day taken a bullet for that stranger, and then gone out for a meal with him. Ray Kowalski had fought, bullied, bribed, cajoled and otherwise insinuated himself into Fraser's life. He'd broken through the Mountie's reserves in a way that Vecchio never had. He'd cared enough to keep fighting for the friendship, even when things were at their very worst. Fraser had never had anyone do that for him. It gave him a sense of belonging and security that he'd only dreamed of. 

Ray Kowalski had pushed hard enough to get through Fraser's barriers and touch his heart. Though Fraser had never said anything, the retraction of `I love you' had been the hardest thing he'd ever done. Ray didn't see Fraser as a bed partner, though Fraser had his share of dreams and fantasies. The sexual tension just wasn't there, and Fraser had long decided not to wish for the impossible. Besides, the incidents that Fraser had witnessed between Ray and his ex-wife had told the Mountie all he needed to know about Ray's desires. 

Diefenbaker was eager to return to the precinct, even to running ahead and then back to Fraser in an attempt to get his pack mate to move faster. Ray Vecchio had frowned a lot and said little through their lunch, and seemed reluctant to return to the station. Dief finally gave up, dashing ahead and into the station without a backwards look. 

The bullpen was it's usual tumultuous self - detectives and witnesses and suspects moving around, trying to get their business done, their statements taken and their innocence proved. Dewey was yelling down the phone at someone, while Huey spoke to a witness at the other desk. Frannie was at her desk as well and apparently speaking to the floor. 

"Diefenbaker!" Fraser reprimanded, hurrying forward, just knowing what he'd see, "Your behaviour is very unprofessional." 

Sure enough, Dief had knocked his pack mate down and was lying on top of him, whining and licking. Ray had his hands buried in Dief's fur, partly to pet him, partly to fend him off. The fully-grown animal on his chest didn't interrupt his conversation with Francesca in the least - both humans acted as if this was an every day occurrence. 

"Hey Frase," Ray Kowalski's tone and eyes showed his insecurity, "How ya doin'?" 

"Fine, thank you kindly," Fraser beamed down at Kowalski in delight, "I've almost finished the repainting to Inspector Thatcher's standards." 

"Aw man, I knew the Ice Queen was gonna do that. I'm sorry I'm not around to help out buddy," Kowalski managed to reduce Dief to a puddle of fur with a rub to the `good spot' and pushed the wolf off. He held a hand up to Fraser, who pulled the slender man to his feet and looked him over critically. Stella Kowalski entered and joined the grouping, greeting Ray Vecchio rather pointedly. 

Fraser felt his heart sink. Kowalski was pale - paler than usual - and he'd lost weight. The hand that Fraser had clasped was clammy, and there were slight beads of sweat at the man's temples. The T and jeans that Fraser was used to seeing his partner in had been snug only a few weeks ago - now they were loose, though not yet baggy. 

"Ray..." Fraser kept up the banter with an effort, rubbing his eyebrow to disguise his concern, "Inspector Thatcher quite rightly wants the Consulate to look its best." 

"Then she shoulda asked ya to do the work in the first place," Kowalski returned evenly and Fraser allowed a small smile to slip out at the compliment. Ray Kowalski always had a high opinion of Fraser and his capabilities - even when they irritated the spiky haired detective to distraction. 

"Understood," he nodded and the two men turned to talk to Vecchio and Stella - both of who had been watching the by-play with interest. 

"I'm so glad you could take the time out to finish your work here, Ray," Stella said in a saccharine voice that positively dripped sarcasm. 

"Yeah I had an opening in da other case. What ya might call for...fortif..." Ray gazed at his ex with patience. She flushed and tensed, sensing the recriminations in his eyes. 

"Fortuitous," Stella snapped, "God, you know you can't use big words! Why do you even bother?" 

Silence fell in the bullpen and Fraser put his hands behind his back to avoid slapping the woman for her cruelty. Kowalski straightened a little and took a file from Frannie's desk. He glanced at Fraser and nodded. 

"Pitter patter, Frase," Kowalski turned away from Stella and limped towards the interview rooms. Fraser and Dief followed, falling into their accustomed patterns. Slowly the bullpen returned to normal, though Welsh gestured for Stella to come to his office. 

Vecchio chose to follow his partner and Kowalski. He wondered what the hell that had been about, but knew better than to ask - if he was meant to know someone would clue him in. He moved to the observation window and looked inside. He watched as they entered the room, Kowalski noisily, banging the door open and slapping the file down while Fraser stepped in quietly, shutting the door carefully and standing next to it, his hands behind his back. 

Kowalski dropped heavily into the other chair and glared across the table at the prisoner. 

"Rudy, I am not happy," Kowalski stated, "My colleagues an' I are hard workers. We do the overtime, we do the distance. An' then along ya come, and mess in our pond. What's with dat?" 

"Look, Detective, I'm just trying to do you a favour here. You don't have to bust my buns," Rudy was a bald, fat, slimy looking kind of guy with a greyish tinge to his complexion. Kowalski shook his head and opened the file in front of him, tilting it so Rudy couldn't read it. 

"I'm not busting anything, Rudy," Kowalski said mildly, then jerked a thumb at Fraser, "That's what he's for." 

"The Mountie?" Rudy gaped and Vecchio shook his head. Bad move, he groaned under his breath. No one could possibly think the Mountie - Mr Clean and Polite - would bust anyone's anything. Kowalski grinned. 

"Dat's right," he confirmed, "Ya see, he came to Chicago on the trail of his fathers killers. And when he caught them de Headquarters in Canada took one look and banished him back to Chicago. Dis is a guy who licks electrical sockets and sniffs hubcaps when he's tracking his wolf. Ya want to get it on with him?" 

Rudy shot Fraser a calculating look and Fraser politely doffed his Stetson, all without changing expression from the mild, slightly interested look. Rudy swallowed hard and got even paler. 

"Ok, look. I got the information you need, but I need you to talk to the Attorney's office. I can't go inside right now and the drugs weren't even for me. I swear it! Look, they did a test when they hauled me in and I was clean, ok. I was just scoring for my brother. He likes to party with his clients. He's in real estate for crying out loud!" Rudy's hands were shaking and he looked as desperate as he sounded. 

"Tell me what ya got an' I'll see what I can do. Ya know if yer shitting us the deals off, right?" Ray skewered him with a deadly glare and Rudy nodded rapidly. Fraser pulled out his notepad and pen and started writing as the con spilled all he knew. 

Vecchio crossed his arms and shook his head. That was a twist on the `good cop/bad cop' scenario that he'd never thought of using. Fraser had always seemed too straight laced to lie like that, even for the greater good. Kowalski was lucky they'd pulled that off. 

"Any luck?" Huey asked quietly, and Vecchio nodded. The other detective watched for a moment and then chuckled. 

"Let me guess, good cop/bad cop. Big Red tipped his hat to the guy and the guy spilled." 

"They do this a lot?" Vecchio asked incredulously. Huey shook his head. 

"Only when they're in a real rush. Fraser don't like to lie by implication, though he and Kowalski worked through the whole thing the first coupla times they did it. Now they just know what the other one's gonna say. Sure saves time," Huey grinned, "They're a good team. A duet, Kowalski calls them. Whatever they are, they get the results, every time." 

Vecchio nodded, swallowing his resentment. 

* * *

Stella's eyes were slightly red when Fraser and Vecchio entered the office. Kowalski had handed everything to his partner, promised to come to the Consulate when the case he was working wrapped up, and booked. Fraser didn't mind - he knew that Ray's part had been played and understood the pressures acting on his friend. He had managed to make sure that Ray knew he would be welcomed when he came and left it at that. 

Stella looked for her ex-husband out in the bullpen and flushed when she realised that he was gone. Ray Kowalski was many things, but a fool was not one of them. It had been her feelings that had changed, not his, and her decision to end their marriage. Ray had agreed because he loved her too much to deny her something she really wanted. 

Welsh took the report from Fraser, reading over the Mountie's notes and asking a few questions. Fraser outlined the deal they had made, and Stella agreed to cooperate should the information pan out. Ray Vecchio raised a few points, and it was like old times, he and Fraser debating a case. Words flew thick and fast until Welsh shook his head and stood up. 

"Gentlemen!" Welsh finally broke in, "Take this to your desks!" 

"Understood, Leftenant," Fraser nodded politely, "I assume that Attorney Kowalski will apologise to Detective Kowalski when he returns to the 2-7?" 

"What business is it of yours?" Stella flashed, hiding her embarrassment behind anger. Fraser merely gave her a long, considering Mountie look. 

"Look, you don't understand," even The Stella couldn't stand up to that look, "When Ray was a patrol man he was beaten with a crowbar - he's been damaged...he's aphasic. I hate to see him..." 

"Embarrass you," Fraser cut in coldly, while Vecchio gaped. Who was this angry yet polite man? Fraser never lost his cool. 

"You're embarrassed because your husband changed after the incident. You should be embarrassed that you were unable to accept him unconditionally," Fraser told the fuming woman. Welsh stood up, his hands raised. 

"All right Constable," he interrupted, "The Attorney will be making a written apology to go in Ray's file, and has assured me that this will never happen again." 

"He's damaged, not stupid," was Fraser's reply, his gaze relentless, "It's a credit to Ray that the injuries he's suffered haven't held him back." 

"Oh? And what about college? He was going to go back and get a degree - that won't happen now," Stella snapped, "He has trouble writing, he has trouble speaking..." 

"He has graduated from night school - Bachelor of Anthropology," Fraser slipped that in blandly, and Stella blanched. Fraser tilted an eyebrow at her and left, trailing a very smug and un-Mountie like air behind him. Vecchio blew out a silent whew and shook his head, following his partner to his desk. 

"Fraser," Vecchio stopped when his friend hit him with a very solid glare. That too was new - Benton Fraser usually concealed his irritation and frustration behind a very polite faade. Their year apart had seen changes in them both and Vecchio felt like he was floundering. Or being punished for taking the undercover gig without speaking to Fraser first. 

"Ray, I don't wish to be rude, but there is a history here that you are unaware of," Fraser said coldly, "Please don't get involved." 

"Ok," Vecchio nodded and dragged his mind back to the job they paid him for. Fraser cracked his neck and handed over his notes. Beside them, Dief growled a little as Stella walked past, ignoring them and the dirty look she got from Francesca. Vecchio shook his head and hoped that they wouldn't be seeing either Kowalski for a while. It was just too unsettling. 

* * *

One week later Ray Vecchio came to accept and understand the changes in the bullpen. His friend had found another friend - in his replacement. Vecchio realised that he was relieved that Fraser - a solitary person at the best of times - had found someone to talk to while he was away. As they were no longer in grade school, Vecchio also realised there was no need for him to be jealous or possessive. Fraser could have as many friends as he wanted. It was better to have more than less in this area. 

Ray Kowalski had given all out to protect his cover, protect and befriend a lonely partner, and protect and serve his city. Vecchio was relieved that his temporary replacement took the job seriously. A lot of cops could have just coasted along on his rep, but Kowalski had done his best to preserve and enhance his rep. Maybe not consciously, Ray got the feeling that his protector was actually just doing his thing and Vecchio was reaping the rewards. 

Fraser was still finding it stifling though. With Kowalski he'd been able, even downright encouraged, to be less than perfect occasionally. Not on the job obviously - their work was too vital to allow carelessness - but during downtime Fraser had been letting his guard down a little more each time. However, Ray Vecchio still had certain expectations of him that Fraser felt were no longer an accurate description of who he was now. 

Add to that the way Turnbull and Diefenbaker were sulking, and Fraser was finding things quite stressful. Ray Vecchio had visited the Consulate a couple of times, and Turnbull had tried his best to adapt to the fact that Vecchio was Vecchio, not Kowalski. He'd made a few gaffes, which the excitable Italian had reacted to in his customary manner. 

While Turnbull and Kowalski were not good friends, the spiky haired man had made an effort to at least talk to the lonely Constable about matters outside the Consulate. He'd listened, maybe not patiently or well, to Turnbull's discussions of curling and poetry. He'd even remembered the Constable's birthday, and slipped him an egg at Easter, as well as a card with a book voucher at Christmas. They were only small gestures, but important ones to the recipient. 

Diefenbaker was sulking over Vecchio's disgust at the state of his clothes and car after the wolf had been near him. Ray Kowalski may have worried about having the wolf in his car at the beginning, but once he knew Dief was a well-behaved passenger, the hair the wolf shed on the seats wasn't protested too much. He maintained the GTO in excellent condition, and simply accepted that Dief would leave hair behind. He carried a couple of old towels in the trunk for emergencies and left it at that. 

Dief was also missing the conversations with his pack mate - rare though they were - and the snacks. He and Kowalski could usually come to some kind of compromise on the snacks that Fraser objected to, although the skinny pack mate was strict about how much he gave to Dief. It was better than the nothing he got from Vecchio. Even Frannie had stopped feeding him snacks, glancing at Fraser sadly and then shaking her head at the wolf. 

All in all, it was a mixed bag in the bullpen on Friday night when the call came in from Vice. The 1-8 had a huge bust going down and needed as many extra personnel as possible. Welsh called for volunteers, and Huey and Dewey went, offering to take Fraser with them. Vecchio got a little hot under the collar at that and insisted that Fraser would be coming with him, though he'd had no original plan to attend the bust. The phrase `undercover officers on scene' still had unpleasant memories for Vecchio. 

The various volunteers from the 2-7 were assigned to secure a perimeter around a warehouse on the waterfront, while the Vice squad from the 1-8 went in. Uniforms were establishing a second perimeter, further back, and there was a second bust slated to go down at the same time on the other side of the city. 

The bust went down, fast and hard. In the initial action, Dief bolted for the warehouse, and Fraser was unable to follow him. He couldn't risk weakening the perimeter, because if he went in, Vecchio would follow. Fraser was still unarmed, and the cops he worked with were serious about backing him up. They knew the kind of trouble the Mountie could get into. 

Shots were fired, but the bust was over very quickly. The far side from where Vecchio and Fraser were stationed reported a few stragglers, easily secured, and after a tense thirty minutes the all clear was given. Fraser was up in a flash, heading for the warehouse, intent on locating his lupine partner and giving him a piece of his mind. 

"Fraser! Wait up!" Vecchio cursed under his breath and headed after his partner, "Damn wolf is as bad as the Mountie." 

"Perhaps that's why they're such a good team," Huey said as he passed, "Tell Big Red..." 

"Stop calling him that!" 

"...that Dewey and I will keep an eye peeled out here in case Dief comes back out," Huey ignored the protest and turned to speak to his partner, giving him a heads up on the situation. 

* * *

Vecchio caught up with Fraser near the entrance. Fraser was examining the floor and crates near the door for tracks. Vecchio kept his gun out, pointing up at the ceiling, not willing to risk being unprepared at the last moment. Fraser was - in his humble opinion - a trouble magnet, pure and simple. 

"Any sign of him?" Ray asked quietly, and Fraser shook his head, frustrated. 

"The floors are unusually clean. I would imagine that this is a fairly regularly used entrance, therefore it's kept clean," Fraser sighed, moving further into the warehouse. Ray nodded and sighed heavily, exasperation clear in his noises. 

"Of course if he wasn't DEAF, we could just call him," Vecchio growled and took a step back when Fraser swung around to face him, his eyes hot with anger that was quickly repressed. The Mountie cracked his neck and rubbed his eyebrow, turning away again with a heavy sigh of his own. 

"You're right," Fraser's voice was tense but even. Before either man could say anything else a long, eerie howl sounded in the warehouse, echoing through it with chilling precision. Both men tensed, and then Fraser bolted for the sound. Vecchio cursed and ran, wishing his partner didn't just charge off like that without letting him provide the correct backup. 

Unspoken between them was the fear that Dief wouldn't howl like that if there wasn't something seriously wrong. While Vecchio was only concerned that the wolf was trapped somewhere, or worse, injured, Fraser recognised the sounds for what they were. Diefenbaker was howling for an injured pack mate - and that could only be Ray Kowalski. 

As they neared the crates where the howls were originating, both men could hear the weak voice of a man, telling the distressed wolf that he was fine, he'd get up in a minute, and would he please shut up, `cause he was getting a headache from all the damn howling. Fraser rounded the crates at a dead run, dropping to his knees and sliding the last two yards in a move that had Vecchio wincing. The smooth concrete would still do some damage despite the thick jeans the Mountie was wearing. 

"Ray!" Fraser's voice was high and panicky, "Where are you hit?" 

"Frase! Calm down! I'm good," Ray Kowalski lied. Vecchio could see it was a lie, the man was even thinner than before, pale and shaking uncontrollably. He was covered in sweat and his right leg was stuck out at an awkward angle. He was propped against a crate, with Dief leaning into his shoulder hard and whining at Fraser urgently now that his call for help had been answered. 

"Ray," Fraser ghosted his hands over his partner's head lightly, moving down to check the chest and shoulders. There was no blood visible except on the palm of one hand, grazed when Kowalski fell, prompting Dief's panic. 

"Tell me what's wrong," Fraser insisted when Ray caught his hands, the pale fingers trembling. 

"I got stabbed in the knee three weeks ago - it's hurting pretty bad," the low confession was reluctant as Kowalski dropped his eyes to his lap, "Mathers knew about it, but needed me to stay in the field. I've been treating it myself." 

Vecchio whipped out his cell phone and called Welsh, giving their location for the medics and the information he had. It was obvious that the sweat and chills indicated a pretty high fever, which meant the infection was serious to say the least. Fraser had pulled his leather jacket off and was wrapping it around Kowalski, murmuring softly now while Dief nuzzled his pack mate in a gesture of tender comfort. 

Kowalski had his eyes fixed on the softly speaking man, his exhaustion and illness apparent to the Chicago detective. The bond the two men had was strong, despite their separation, despite his return and the weeks he'd spent with the Mountie, readjusting their dynamic. As he watched, Kowalski closed his eyes slowly, relaxing into the wolf at his side, his hand gripping Fraser's tightly, their entwined fingers flexing and tugging unconsciously. 

Welsh appeared noisily, barging into the space, the medics crowding after them. Vecchio and the Lieutenant both watched as the medics worked around Fraser and the wolf. Welsh got tenser and tenser as the litany of woe rose from the woman assessing his detective's condition - malnutrition, fever, irregular heartbeat, fever and the wound to his knee. Kowalski had moaned when they slit his jeans, revealing a knee that was swollen and red beneath the rumpled dressing, with lines extending up the thigh and down the calf. Fraser's quiet oath of horror barely registered as Welsh went from concern and worry to towering fury. Mathers should have pulled Ray Kowalski the minute he was hurt, no matter how vital his cover was to Mathers case. 

Fraser moved to help lift his friend and partner onto the gurney and Dief ran alongside as they hustled out to the waiting ambulance. Welsh had his cell phone out, growling into it already as he and Vecchio hurried along behind. Fraser swung up into the ambulance without breaking his grip on his friend and Welsh stepped forward to close the door, adding a few low words to Fraser about meeting him at the hospital as soon as he could. 

Then the siren and lights were on and the ambulance was moving, leaving Dief standing in the lot staring after it miserably. Vecchio sighed, thinking he'd better get the wolf back to the Consulate and then letting Fraser know he'd taken care of the animal for now. To his surprise Welsh put his free hand on Dief's head, getting the wolf to look up. 

"I'll take you to the station," Welsh said clearly and then glared at Vecchio, daring him to say something, anything about it, "Vecchio, the Duck boy's will handle our end of the clear up here. Get down to the hospital and give Fraser a hand. I'm going to find out why the hell my detective was allowed to remain in the field after his injury." 

Vecchio watched his boss storm off, Dief trailing at his heels dejectedly. He shook his head and headed for the car, reflecting that some things sure had changed. 

Mostly for the better. 

* * *

Fraser looked up from where he was sitting at Vecchio's approach and the Italian winced. His partner looked...hollow...like someone had gutted him and then left him there. He put a hand on the Mounties shoulder and sat beside him. 

"Any news?" he asked and Fraser shook his head, "The Lieutanant took Dief to the station with him." 

"Ah," Fraser returned his gaze to the doors that admitted patients to the ER. Vecchio left his hand where it was and leaned back against the wall. Kowalski had looked so...frail when they loaded him that Vecchio had half expected to hear the man had died en-route. 

The noise and activity of the ER was unnerving - an incessant cacophony that wore on the nerves and mind. People shouted and cried and wailed and moaned, underscored by the screech of machinery and jangle of alarms and bells. The place reeked of all sorts of things - nothing Vecchio wanted to delve into too closely. The lights were harsh and bright and the colours for the most part drab - except of course for the splashes of blood that frequently adroned the patients. 

The next time Vecchio looked up it was three in the morning and Fraser was getting restless. The Italian squeezed his friend's shoulder and went to find a nurse for an update. When no information was offered, despite his badge and attitude, Vecchio headed for the ubiquitous vending machines and the awful coffee they dispensed. He found another one that sold soda's and so on and selected an orange juice for Fraser before wandering back to their seats. 

"Hey, Benny, got you a juice," Vecchio held it out and Fraser sat up, his face lined and old. 

"Thank you kindly," his voice was rusty from disuse and Vecchio blew out a sigh before sitting down again. 

"Look, I don't know this guy too well, but it he's gotta be pretty tough if he's been out in the field this long with a hinky knee," he started and Fraser started to rub his eyebrow. He cracked his neck and tugged his ear before straightening up again. 

"You're right," he agreed in a low voice, "You don't know him." 

Any further conversation was killed off. Vecchio felt as if someone had thrown ice water over him. Even after seeing the two men working in the interrogation room together, Ray had assumed that his friend and his replacement had simply been making the best of a bad situation - after all, they were both professionals and had the additional motivation of protecting his life - their friendship had been neccessary. It seemed there was a lot more to the situation than he had given credit to. Thankfully the doctor chose that moment to appear. Fraser was upright and quivering for news in a flash. 

"Constable Fraser? I'm Dr Lewis," she held a hand out and Fraser shook it absently, "As you're Detective Kowalski's emergency contact I can tell you that he's been stabbed in the knee approximately three weeks ago. Despite his attempts to doctor it himself - and the surface of the wound is remarkably clean all things considered - the joint has become badly infected. He'll be on a course of IV antibiotics for the next two weeks, possibly three. If we can't combat the infection successfully and keep it from spreading we may need to look at amputation." 

"No!" Fraser gasped and she put a hand on his arm when he swayed. Vecchio leapt to his side and slid an arm around the distraught mans waist, cursing under his breath at fate, Mathers and Fraser's habit of bottling everything up. 

"That is our last course of action, and not one that I predict we'll need. I'm very hopeful that we've got to it in time. Once the infection is cleared up he'll be looking at some weeks of therapy, but I feel confident that he'll return to duty in time." 

Fraser nodded and took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders and looking around. 

"May I see him?" Fraser asked. The doctor smiled and nodded, giving them the room details and telling them that Kowalski was on his way up. Fraser nodded back, thanked her kindly and strode off for the lifts, leaving Vecchio and the doctor in his dust. 

Vecchio asked a few more questions, then thanked Dr Lewis again and headed for the phones, calling the 2-7 and leaving Welsh a message with all the relevant details. The Lieutenant would want to know that there was no record that the wound had received medical attention, and the extent of the injuries. IA would also want to know. Mathers was in deep doo-doo. 

* * *

If Ray Kowalski expected to just withdraw quietly from his place in other peoples lives he was thoroughly disabused of that notion over the next few weeks. The first week passed in a haze of drugs, the only constant the muted pain in his knee and Fraser's fingers wrapped around his. He woke at irregular intervals to blink in response to the Mountie's words and tighten his grip a little before floating away once more. 

The dosages were stepped down at the start of the second week. Kowalski found Fraser asleep in the chair beside his bed, a stubble worthy of a Mountain Wild Man gracing the usually smooth cheeks and the man's hair tufted and disturbed by sleep. Ray found him indescribably beautiful, not that he'd ever tell the Canadian that. He was in love, not stupid, and friendship with Fraser was better than nothing at all. His last go round with Stella had finally stripped the blinders from his eyes. He'd finally accepted that the love of his life had been standing at his side for a while now - and Fraser was unlikely to ever clue into his feelings. Not that the guy didn't know anything about sex or love or passion or anything - it just wasn't something they'd discussed. Whenever they came into contact with gay civilians Kowalski had appreciated the way Fraser didn't judge - the guy didn't see gender as an issue, unless it affected his ideas of chivalry. 

Pulling his mind back from its lustful wanderings and inventory of his toy drawer back home, Kowalski woke his friend and sent him home, pleading for donuts when Fraser returned, rested and refreshed. The words `Dief will know my favourites' won him a very weak smile and a neck crack before Fraser pulled his fingers free slowly and got up. 

Once alone, Ray had flipped the covers back and cried in relief when he saw his leg still attached. He was no doctor, but he'd known how bad the infection was. The swelling seemed a little less, and the red streaks were fading away slowly. The day nurse found him still staring at his leg and crying and slipped him a mild sedative until the Mountie could return. Welsh beat Fraser back to it and sat down at his detectives side until he was sure Kowalski was awake and aware. 

Then he proceeded to ream him a new hole for staying in the field while he was so badly injured. Ray's protests and defences didn't carry much weight until Welsh was finished having his say. 

"Feel better, sir?" Ray regarded his former and future boss with a jaundiced eye. Welsh grinned and pushed his sleeves up. 

"You know it," he told his subordinate, "I don't suppose anyone has sat down and told you about your leg?" 

Kowalski shook his head, aware that he still bore traces of the earlier crying jag. Welsh nodded and explained the initial diagnosis and the update that told the scared man that he was expected to recover provided he remained in hospital long enough for the infection to clear his joint completely and then work hard in therapy. The relaxation of tense muscles and suddenly bright eyes had Welsh angry all over again and adding the day staff to his `list'. It was a long list but at the moment Mathers and the Vice squad at the 1-8 were occupying the top slots, so the staff were safe until the issue of Ray's involvement in the undercover work was resolved or until Welsh actually caught them ignoring or neglecting his detective. 

"Mathers has been suspended. IA will want to hear your side of the story before we decide what course of action to take. I'll tell them they can come see you next week," Welsh put up a hand to still the inevitable protest, "You need to get clear of the drugs before we can take a statement and right now your dosage is too high for us to ethically interview you. I understand that ethics aren't something you've been treated with lately, but that's how this is going down." 

"Understood," Kowalski sighed, leaning back tiredly. A half hour with his boss had worn him out beyond belief. 

"Look, Kowalski, get some rest. I'll swing by with a chess set later on, or some cards. I'll let the 2-7 know you're ok." 

"Thanks boss," Kowalski let his eyes slide closed for just a moment. When he opened them again Welsh was gone and Frannie was sitting in his visitors chair, reading a magazine. 

* * *

Frannie was the first of the Vecchio's to visit. Her brother showed up once or twice to bring Fraser some lunch during the day, stopping to say hello. Their conversation was awkward and stilted, but Kowalski knew the Italian was trying to connect there and did his best to be receptive and friendly. Fraser seemed grateful for the effort and Kowalski left it at that. 

He couldn't really see himself and Vecchio as good friends. Fraser and the Vecchio family was the only common link they had. They were too alike for comfort - both had a temper and liked to do things their own way. However, Fraser was a bridge they didn't want to see burned, and he would be if the two of them took to fighting and sniping at each other. For Fraser's sake they'd be polite and professional - hell they'd even be friendly on occasion, but they'd never have the easy comaradie that close friends achieved. 

Marie and Tony came for a short, loud, exhausting visit. Tony came back once or twice on his own, playing cards with the recuperating man. The couple brought all their kids once, but the nurses kicked them out before Ray could say anything he'd later regret. He was a little amazed that they bothered to come at all. Sure, they'd been friendly enough when he was protecting Vecchio, but he'd never thought that any relationship they'd struck up would last once the real Ray returned. The kids still called him Uncle Ray and squabbled for his attention like always before the nurses kicked them out. 

Ma Vecchio came every day once Frannie told her that Kowalski was much better and staying awake. She'd been once or twice during the hazy week - not that Ray remembered anything other than Fraser's fingers in his - but had stayed away at her son's request. He hadn't wanted to see her upset, and the visits to her adopted son were very distressing for her. 

Every visit coincided with a mealtime - and every visit had something to tempt his iffy appetite to eat a little more than the bland hospital fare that they were offering him. When Kowalski complained that he'd put on weight lying around and eating without exercise Ma just patted his cheek affectionately and told him that was the whole idea. 

"You're too thin, caro. You need more meat on your bones," she crooned, waving a tempting pastry under his nose. Kowalski had laughed ruefully and accepted the cosseting, giving the left overs to his guests. 

The Duck boys were appreciative of this - they stopped by every second night for a quick chat and a game of poker. They'd dish the station gossip and latest cases. Fraser would take their visiting time off - heading out to the bathrooms to freshen up. On the nights the Duck boys didn't drop by Welsh did, ensuring that Fraser had the much-needed time. 

Barbara Kowalski also came to visit - covering the meal that Ma did not. Ray figured they'd got a schedule together and kept his trap shut. His father came along a few times too, sitting in the corner and scowling at him. Something had his old man pissed, and Ray was still too washed out to figure out what it was. A part of him knew that when Damien had stewed enough he'd share his ire with his youngest son, and that would be that. 

Turnbull dropped in once or twice, bringing a huge bag of something called Smarties on his second visit. Ray was delighted to find that these were just like M&M's and gleefully had a couple of handful's, sharing with Turnbull before putting the bag away. During that particular visit, Ray realised that Fraser was out of uniform. A single question cleared that up - `leave time' and a glower at Turnbull who shut his mouth - and that was that. Kowalski couldn't find it in him to protest the Mountie taking the time - his presence was making the enforced bed rest and hospital stay bearable. He also passed on Diefenbaker's `warmest regards'. 

As nice as all the visitors were, Ray's favourite part of the day was the time he spent alone with Fraser. True, he still slept a lot between visitors, and he wasn't very entertaining when he was awake, but the two of them would sit together in silence, sometimes playing cards, sometimes playing chess, and be perfectly comfortable. Fraser had a way of knowing what it was that Ray needed from his friend and could supply it quietly. 

At the end of the second week in hospital Lieutenant Welsh arrived with IA to take Ray's statement. 

* * *

Walters and Park were skinny, tall and untidily dressed in their bargain basement suits. They shook hands with Kowalski, made astonished noises when Fraser indicated that he was going to stay for the interview. Welsh told them to get on with it rather testily - the Lieutenant looked rumpled and tired - and they sat down to business. 

"So, Detective, perhaps you would start out firstly by telling us about your assignment and then answer some questions," Park's voice was nasal and unpleasant. Walters pushed the mini recorder over towards Kowalski and turned it on. Kowalski took a deep breath and pushed up a little. 

"So the Devon family are mostly small time pot dealers, right. Dey run the occasional hooker, dey've got a pretty strong rep on the street. We got some information that dey're moving into guns and harder drugs. Dey've acquired some pimps and a long string of hookers and the other families are suddenly making room for them. Dey're also running a fleet of trucks to get the new drugs and guns in an' out of the city. There's some indication that they've got international contacts and Mathers has a snitch dat's in a position to discover dat they need a coupla men." 

"One of the men needed is a mechanic to keep the fleet in order. I've got da skills and a...perp.. persona that's known on the streets. He's in and out of Chicago - he leaves when he's shacking up with some chick an' comes back when he wants money. He's done some time in the chop shops and boosted a few cars." 

"Right, so they get you a job as a mechanic," Walters interrupts and Kowalski nodded in confirmation. He was looking tired, but he took a deep breath and kept going. 

"Uh huh, an' I got it `cos Mathers arrested the other guy dat was going for the job. So I work in the main depot an' live in a rat hole for a week. But at the end of the week the guy that Mathers arrested finds me in da alley behind the flophouse and stabs me in the knee with a shiv. So I stuff him in a dumpster and get the uniforms to pick him up. I tell Mathers about the whole thing and he comes over with a huge first aid kit. He puts some peroxide on it and some butterfly clips and that's ok. I keep the kit and doctor it myself. Den he says I'm needed at the 2-7 an' I get myself busted for D&D." 

"For an old case?" Park clarifies and Welsh gave them the details. While he spoke Fraser offered his partner a drink of water and helped him settle down a little in the bed. He'd already had Ma Vecchio and Francesca visit him today - and a physical therapist had stopped by with some beginning exercises. He was tiring rapidly, and Fraser - as his self appointed guardian - wanted to see the visitors gone and his charge settled for a nap. 

"Did you at any point ask to see a doctor, Detective?" Park asked when Welsh was done and Ray nodded tiredly. He was not an idiot - he knew the risk of leaving an infected cut untreated. 

"It got infected, no matter what we did. I asked him to take me to a clinic across town so I didn't blow de cover an' he promised to take me at our next face to face. But he kept cancelling them an' by the time it got so bad we were close to the bust and I couldn't back out `cos it woulda blown the whole thing." 

"Very well," Walters nodded and looked over at Park, "I need to ask you a couple of questions about the first bust." 

"First bust?" Fraser blurted and Ray smiled at him, shrugging helplessly. 

"We busted a shipment of guns. De whole thing was supposed at be over, but Mathers told me dat backup was late so dey only got de buyers, not de sellers," he told the men from IA. 

"Did you hear why the backup was late?" Park asked and Ray shook his head. 

"Mathers told me dat dey were tryin' to get the buyers to roll over on the Devon's but I knew dey wouldn't do it. The Devon's had such a strong rep by den, no one wanted to cross `em." 

"I see. If Mathers was cancelling the face to face, how did you report to him?" 

"He left a cell phone in my room, under da baseboard behind da door," Ray shrugged, "I called him a coupla times to report. An' I got myself in place for da final bust, accordin' to what he tole me over da phone." 

"Very well," Walters nodded and Park leaned forward. 

"Did you make any attempt to speak to anyone other than Mathers?" he asked now and Ray sighed. He was looking washed out - more than he had before - and his eyes were struggling to open. When he spoke his voice was rough and slow. 

"I thought about talkin' to de guys at the 2-7, but I figured dat Mathers was runnin' a tight ship. He said he was worried about leaks. An' he tole me to report to him only, `cos he could control who had access to my info and protect me. At de time it made some sorta sense." 

"Ok, that's enough," Welsh told the two IA men, "Kowalski's practically asleep - and he's still recovering. You got most the answers you need. Time to go. You can talk to him again later." 

The two detectives protested and whined, but Fraser was already turning off their recorder and handing it over before turning to his friend and leaning over him, lowering the head of the bed. He fixed the blankets and smoothed Ray's hair back. When Welsh looked back at the door, the Mountie's was leaning over his partner, whispering to him softly while Ray blinked sleepily at him. 

* * *

Ray opened very heavy eyes and took a deep comfortable breath. Loving arms were holding him, his body was extremely comfortable, the scents of home surrounded him. Maybe best of all, there was no throbbing drain in his knee, no stinging catheter you-know-where and no aching IV in the back of his hand. 

Ray turned his head and smiled. Benton Fraser had been so tired last night that Ray had no trouble convincing the Mountie that he didn't want to sleep alone the first night out of hospital. Fraser had lain down to humour his friend. He had lain still on the bed, intending to wait until Ray went to sleep and return to the couch, sharing the living room with Diefenbaker. However the tension of staying at the hospital with Ray had caught up with him and he'd fallen asleep. Sometime during the night he'd rolled onto his side and taken Ray in his arms. 

The thin detective smiled and snuggled in closer to the sleeping man. 

During his time undercover he'd had long lonely nights to think about his life - and then the time in the hospital had let him re-evaluate the decisions he'd made. He'd decided that he was going to the Consulate whether he returned to the 2-7 or not. He'd decided how he wanted to fit into Fraser's life - as a friend at the very least, as a lover if at all possible. He knew that he could be attracted to a man, and Fraser was a man he knew well. He was beautiful inside and out. Even the parts that drove Ray nuts in a bad way were beautiful. 

He'd planned to tell Fraser how he felt and work it through with his friend until they knew where they stood. If they were just going to be friends, then Ray would deal, if they were going to go forward with their relationship, then Ray would thank God day and night for the rest of his life. 

Fraser stirred a little and Ray leaned up to kiss the man softly. His memories of the final bust were a little hazy. Dief had found him and helped him decide when it was safe to emerge from cover. The wolf had lead him along the back wall, lingering over his slow and faltering steps. He'd stumbled once or twice, earning himself a worried whine, then fallen, skinning his hand pretty thoroughly. He hadn't been able to get up, despite Dief's encouragement and the wolf had started howling, calling for Fraser and help. 

Fraser had held his hand. Every time Ray woke Fraser was there, his fingers tangled with Ray's his voice soothing and calm. Ray hated hospitals and only Fraser's presence stopped him from panicking, or trying to sign himself out. He'd stayed for the full three weeks the doctor had insisted on as well, enduring the discomfort and sickness that the drugs, infection and medical torture instruments the doctors insisted on using. 

Ray had some hazy idea that Fraser had taken time off to do this - leave time or something. He had been too grateful for his presence to protest beyond that first time he'd woken up properly and stayed awake for more than five minutes. It was the fact that the man had chosen to stay, the care and attention lavished on him, the tenderness in the handsome face and the efforts to keep him amused and in good temper that had persuaded Ray that his Benton felt more than the `symbolic' love they'd once declared and then retracted. 

He knew the man, though. He knew that Benton Fraser would rather track camels in the Sahara while naked than discuss his feelings or previous sexual experiences. It was up to him to tell the man he loved how he felt and welcome any advances Benton made. 

Fraser stirred in his sleep and opened his eyes. Ray took a deep breath and summoned the future. 

* * *

Warmth and silence. The body he was wrapped around was solid and welcoming, warm and comforting. The silence of the bedroom seemed to muffle the sounds of the city just outside the windows. Hands rested on his body - one on his back, the other on his hand. He was lying with his arm over someone's waist and the other arm cradling a heavy head. 

Fraser opened his eyes and blushed when he realised that Ray was in his arms - that they had in fact slept together last night - Ray's first night out of the hospital and its wearying noises and smells. Ray was smiling at him with a look of such tenderness that it caught the breath in Fraser's throat. 

"I Stanley Raymond Kowalski love you Benton Robert Fraser for as long as we both shall live. In sickness and in health, to honour and cherish, forever." 

Benton froze. In two simple sentences Ray had somehow told him so much. Had told him that he'd seen the way Fraser felt - and in the hospital it had been impossible to hide his feelings for very long - and returned those feelings. He had told him that he wanted a life with Fraser, no matter that they drove each other to distraction - and not always in the good way. He had told him that he wanted and needed the Mountie as much as the Mountie wanted and needed him. 

All that remained was to reply. 

"I Benton Robert Fraser love you Stanley Raymond Kowalski for as long as we both shall live. In sickness and in health, to honour and cherish, forever." 

Ray's smile was blinding and Fraser bent his head for their first kiss. Their lips brushed and clung, the chapped skin of Ray's mouth making Fraser's tingle in pleasure. He sighed and Ray took the opportunity to slip his tongue between Fraser's lips, teasing lightly, licking for the taste of his lover, murmuring a pleased acknowledgement of the pleasure of this first taste. 

Ray let go of Fraser's hand to twine his fingers in the sleep mussed hair, burrowing in deep and massaging his scalp while their tongues tousled and played together. The long drugging kisses, combined with the massage soon had Fraser hard and eager for more. The Mountie sent his hand questing over his lovers chest, finding and playing with the hard nipples. 

Ray made another pleased noise and settled into the mattress a little deeper, riding the slow waves of pleasure that were sweeping over both men. Growing bold, Fraser skimmed a hand down to his Ray's groin. He made a frightened noise and froze when he encountered the lax penis there. 

"It's da drugs," Ray whispered reassuringly, "Just relax and let me take care of ya...wanna make ya feel so good, Benton...let me do this for ya...please..." 

Fraser nodded, feeling a little unsettled. His experience may have been limited, but it felt...wrong that he was not giving his partner pleasure. 

"You are," Ray apparently read his mind, "Ya feel so good against me...and what ya were doing before was so nice...I'm just not up for more..." 

"Then maybe we should stop Raylove. I don't..." Fraser stopped when Ray shook his head. The detective kissed him slow and deep then pulled back for a moment. 

"I love ya. I want to give this to ya now." 

"I want it," Fraser confessed, his diamond hard cock, pressed to the mattress. Ray smiled brilliantly and shifted his hand from Fraser's back, urging the Mountie up and tugging the starched shorts down. When Fraser lowered himself again it was to find his cock pressed to Ray's hand, the head rubbing over the heel of his palm, the long fingers rubbing and teasing the base of his shaft. Fraser made a noise that he would have been embarrassed about if Ray hadn't started with the long slow kisses again, stepping up the scalp massage. 

Hips moving restlessly, tongue thrusting joyously, Fraser gave himself up to the pleasure that Ray was gifting him with, allowing himself to just feel, to just be in the moment. 

When the pleasure overwhelmed him as it inevitably must, Ray caught him easily and soothed him back to serenity. 

"Move in with me?" the question was soft, almost silent in the heavy air. He moved his face a little, just enough to be heard. 

"Forever." 

* * *

The 2-7 was humming. It was the case from hell and they were struggling with the flood of reporters, politicians, psychics and god knows what else. Kowalski was at his new desk - in the opposite corner of the bullpen to Vecchio - manning the phones, typing up statements and generally doing the paperwork for the rest of the pen, forced onto desk duty by his injury. Dief spent the time under his desk, curled around the man's feet and seemingly quite happy there. Technically, Kowalski should still have been on leave, but the case had pulled him in - he needed to do _something_ even if it was just take the paperwork off the others. 

The case involved kids - all the very worst ones did - and it was so screwy that Vecchio couldn't imagine what the hell these weirdo's were thinking. 

Three school buses full of kids had been abducted, one a week, each time in a different part of the city, each time in a different part of the day. They were held to ransom then returned to their depot, the kids scared witless but otherwise unharmed. The first one occurred in the 2-7, making them the lead detectives on the case. Even the FBI couldn't match the determination and manpower the 2-7 was pouring into this case. 

Fraser was also at the station full time, Inspector Thatcher had known better than to try and keep him away from the case, especially after he had threatened to resign over the care and nursing of Kowalski. She had told him that he was to move his domicile off the Consulate premises in retaliation, little realising that she was playing directly into their hands. Welsh had rung her - in one of the rare moments of free time he had to thank her for Canada's assistance - a little game they played to give Fraser's time at the 2-7 an official ring to it. 

Paired up with Vecchio, Fraser had helped conduct witness interviews and surveillance of various individuals. Huey and Dewey were talking to the bus company employee and the schools - trying to find a common thread, a sign that someone had been watching them, looking for the unusual or different. Welsh had a team on the families - this was such a big task that it had to be farmed out to the other precincts as well, and information was trickling in very slowly. The 1-8 was notorious for going it alone, and Welsh was riding herd on them daily, almost hourly. Mathers was an ethereal presence in the back of his mind - the rotten apple in the barrel. 

The end of the third week, and the frenzy was gearing up for the weekend, because everyone knew that they were no closer to the solution, no closer to stopping this from happening next week, despite the police escort the commissioner was trying to get in place for each school bus in Chicago. That would only delay things not stop them and the 2-7 was at a fever pitch. 

Friday night, Welsh had the team in the pen, the phones switched off and the doors locked, with the stated intent that `no one gets out of here until we've got something better!' Huey and Dewey were going over the very slender physical evidence and the profiles that they'd made of who they were looking for. Kowalski was in his corner, beavering away at something - his head down and a rude gesture at the ready should anyone try and disturb him. 

Vecchio and Dewey got into it over their differing idea of where these people are taking the buses while they wait for the ransom. The buses are driven into a covered semi and then the semi moves on. It parks eventually, but the presence of men with guns has prevented them from calling for help, and the description of the semi differs each time. Fraser let Welsh handle it, drifting back to talk to his partner. He had the immunity of a lover to the snarl and gesture. 

"Hey, Frase," the blonde glanced up, "Do you remember the name Chalmers?" 

"Chalmers," Fraser mused, leaning on the table next to Kowalski and rubbing his thumb over his eyebrow as he thought. 

"Yeah, something about a factory?" Kowalski didn't look up, just kept burrowing through the files on his desk, comparing lists written in his energetic and mostly illegible-to-others scrawl. 

"Oh, yes. Roger Chalmers and his five brothers. They own a textiles mill and there was some trouble over the termination of seven of their deliverymen. They produced uniforms and shipped them to various companies in Chicago, including the Police Department's Uniform store," Fraser nodded, "We investigated the allegations of sabotage against the employees but were unable to find any evidence they were connected to the acts. As I recall the terminated employees sued for wrongful dismissal but had their case dismissed from court. The Chalmers' lawyers were tenacious." 

Kowalski was sitting still, peering at something, then he looked up and nodded, acknowledging the information. 

"Yeah, dat's right," he sighed and dropped the lists. Fraser tilted his head and Kowalski grinned at him, both men unaware of the attention they were attracting with their quiet conversation. Welsh actually had a hand on Vecchio's arm, recognising the vibes over at the desk. 

"I seem to recall that the Chalmers have lost several clients over the matter - including the department. There was some feeling among the Unions that the case was won by money, not justice," Fraser continued, waiting for the blue eyes watching him to spark. An idea was dogging the detective, all they had to do was jog his memory. 

"Hmmm," Kowalski nodded, "Yeah, dey were whining about it on the radio that time - when we were in the Goat watching the Brady place...how it wasn't fair that dey were being punished for firin' people even though the courts said dey had the right to do so." 

"An emotive issue," Fraser agreed, and Kowalski sighed, then sat up straight. 

"Oh my god," he breathed, "That's it!" 

"What?" Fraser frowned, and Kowalski grabbed for a file, pulling it out and turning to the computer. 

"The kids! Da kids of the fired people! I think they were on the buses! The Chalmers family has someone pick their kids up - dey're posh nobs who can afford it, but what if they decided to get a little payback...make the parents pay for the loss of business." 

"An eye for an eye?" Fraser leaned over the computer and inputted the case number from memory, calling up the details they wanted. 

"Maybe it's a coincidence," Welsh offered quietly, slipping the comment in almost subconsciously and Kowalski shook his head like there was a bee in his ear. 

"Hellava coincidence Lieu," he retorted, "If I'm rememberin' this right, the Chalmers were not like their names. They was snobs, barely spoke ta me. Loved da Mountie of course - all Mr Manners." 

Fraser poked him discreetly as the rest of the people in the bullpen gathered closer. The files came up and Kowalski handed a couple of lists over, getting Fraser to read out the names and addresses of the people involved while the cops checked them out. Each bus had one of the families involved on it - one had two. 

Energised, they threw themselves into proving the theory correct - the best lead they'd had so far in the case. 

* * *

"To the luck of the Polish," Welsh grinned as he lifted the glass. Kowalski offered them a scowl as the rest of the people in their corner of the bar repeated the toast. He and Fraser had been right. The Chalmers were responsible for terrorising the children in a twisted attempt to extract remuneration for the very expensive bribes they'd paid out to win their court case. 

The cops had caught them red handed, preparing for the next kidnapping. The case was open and shut and the Mayor was already talking about commendations and awards, capitalising on the good press he was getting with the Unions. 

Welsh had ignored all of that - he wasn't concerned with honours and awards from the outside. He and his team had decided to celebrate in their own way, and everyone had headed for their usual bar. They took turns to shout rounds of drinks and Kowalski had also bought a round of pizzas in, the empty boxes now resting on the table in an unsteady pile. 

Well fed and definitely well on the way to getting legless, the cops swapped friendly insults and tall stories. Fraser sat quietly beside his partner, while Vecchio sat opposite them. Huey and Dewey were arguing some stupid point about an old comedy routine the Marx brothers had pulled and Welsh was chiming in with his opinion until his cell phone sounded and he'd had to clamber out of the corner and find a quieter spot to take the call. 

Vecchio took the opportunity to watch Kowalski and Fraser together. That afternoon in the bullpen had been an eye-opener. Fraser had tried jogging his memory in just that way once or twice over their friendship - he'd never let the Mountie get too far though, seeing it as a distraction he didn't need. The blonde cop with the experimental hair had let the Mountie rabbit on, letting the words flow over him while he thought. They were a good partnership - they had a give and take that was unlike the one he'd worked on with Fraser. 

Fraser looked up and smiled a little at Vecchio. The Italian smiled back and lifted his glass in solemn salute. Whatever else was going on there - and there was something, the Canadian and the Polack were sitting pretty close and no matter what excuse they gave, Fraser was now a permanent roomie at Kowalski's place - the partnership was solid. Vecchio figured he'd cut Kowalski a little slack in the meantime until he'd had a chance to get to know the man for himself. Just as long as they didn't make him think about their living arrangements. 

Welsh came back, sat down and shut them up by the simple process of putting his fingers in his mouth and giving an ear splitting blast that probably had Dief sitting up alertly in Kowalski's apartment on the other side of town. 

"I just got word about Mathers and the 1-8," he told them when they stopped whining and were paying attention. Fraser sat up to attention and Kowalski dropped his head. This was not gonna be good. 

"Mathers has been arrested, and will be facing charges," Welsh said into the expectant hush, "He was criminally negligent with the care of the people under his command, and there is some indication that he was taking bribes from the Devon's nearest rivals. That's still under investigation, but at the moment it doesn't look too good. There's been evidence tampering linked back to him as well." 

"Is the Devon case still going ahead?" Fraser asked tensely. Surely his lover hadn't gone through all that just to have his efforts thrown away. 

"It is," Welsh nodded, "Though the DA's job just got harder." 

"Fuck," Kowalski said under his breath, "I guess I played right inta his hands, huh?" 

"No," Vecchio said sharply, before anyone else could, "There were five other people under with you Kowalski, don't be stupid." 

"Five?" Ray frowned, "He never said anything' about dat!" 

"IA is going to want you back in. They want to go over everything with a fine toothcomb. I've already arranged for a lawyer to be there, Kowalski, so there's no attempts to spread the blame around. So just get over it now," Welsh added and Kowalski nodded in defeat. 

Not long after that the party broke up. 

* * *

Fraser crawled into the bed, careful of the braced knee. His lover was naked and they pressed skin to skin eagerly, kissing and petting each other tenderly. 

"I'm sorry about Mathers," Fraser whispered when they parted for breath, "You trusted him." 

"I...it's ok, Ben. I know that sometimes we trust the wrong people. As long as I've got you, though...you'll never betray me." 

Heart stirring words. Benton Fraser answered the only way he knew how. 

The end. 

<evil smirk>

* * *

End What If by shedoc:

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